Love walked in
by Demented Symphony
Summary: Tomoyo had the life, great job, boyfriend then tragedy struck and left her with an unexpected gift. One that will lead her to heal past wounds and open her heart to a new love as well as an old love she had once left behind. Please read and review!


Usual disclaimer put here. We all know I'm not CLAMP, so why bother writing one.

Here I am with another story!!! Hopefully I will keep this one updated. I have recently begun to love the Eriol/Tomoyo pairing, so this will be my first story centered around them. Hope you like it=^.^=

Love Walked In

Chapter 1 The life, the death

The beeping from the alarm clock was deafening, a slender pale hand slapped at the squawking device sending it crashing down to the floor. The beeps were no more. She removed the mask away from her eyes to see that she had once again killed yet another alarm clock. She shrugged her shoulders and raised her arms in the air, stretching her sleepy limbs awake. She sauntered to the bathroom and turned the knobs allowing the water to heat up as she twisted her long raven hair up into a twist. After removing her clothes she stepped underneath the cascading water. As she washed, her voice trilled and echoed. Just before the water could turn cold, she got out and wrapped her hair. She grabbed her robe from the nearby hook and the wall and tied it tightly around her. Still singing to herself, she walked over to the stereo and turned it on full blast.

The sound of the music vibrated off the walls as she sung along to the enchanting vocals. Walking over to her closet, she pressed a button which turned not only her light on, but brought her closet to life. Being a heiress to a booming toy company had it's advantages. Being talented in the art of designing and making clothes to life, definitely had it's rewards. Why pay beaucoup bucks to wear someone's name when you can flaunt and wear your own? She placed her finger on her chin, pondering the kind of trend she would set today. Conceited she was not, if anything she was all modest. It wasn't her fault that whatever she decided to wear, weeks later other designers would try their hand at replicating it and fail. She decided on a kimono wrapped top in bright crimson embroidered with roses and a pair of skinny capri pants with her favorite wedge sandals. She gave quick work to her hair and make-up, gave herself a quick look in a passing mirror and ran out the door.

"Ms. Daidouji, here are the fabric samples you wanted. Here is your mail, oh! Before I forget, you have a 1:45 lunch appointment with Mr. Heathe he told me to remind you to please not stand him up this time, it took him a week to get the reservation. Here is your coffee and if there is anything else?" The pixie like blonde stood with a smile, waiting for her next task. Tomoyo, absorbed in a recent sketch took the coffee taking a dainty sip and placed it on the desk. The young assistant waited still.

"Yes, Amelie do me a very big favor. Now this is a life and death, well not that bad but it is so important, that your very job depends on it. Are you ready?" She looked up to see that her assistant's face had gone pale and dewy. She took a deep breath, "Yes ma'am. Whatever it is, I can do it!" Tomoyo smiled at the girls enthusiasm. "Good, just make sure I have another hot cup of coffee in 20 minutes get me another sketch book, sharpen my pencils then take a break, and for god sakes breathe! You are doing a great job, if you weren't, trust me you would no. So, just take it easy." She gave her a shining smile and the girl slowly stepped out of her office with an 'I can't tell if she's crazy or setting me up' look. "Remember, 20 minutes I want a fresh hot cup! Don't forget, your job depends on it!" She giggled lightly to herself as she took another sip. She had to hand it to the girl, she could make a mean cup of joe. She went through a lot of assistants. It wasn't that she was a mean and demanding boss, she just asked for one thing that no assistant has yet been able to keep up with. Fresh coffee was Tomoyo's pet peeve. If the person she hired could at least placate her with her coffee obsession, they were a keeper.

She abandoned the sketch and turned on her computer. She narrowed down the important email to just about 50 and let out a sigh. If only she could just design and make the clothes. It made her happy to see women enjoy wearing her clothes. Tomoyo had the life that many young fashion moguls would dream. At 28, she was already the most sought out designer. Movie and music stars around the globe wore her name proudly to red carpet events and everyday life. She owned and operated her own business and was a fair and often to nice employer.

So if meetings, emails, and demanding fresh coffee was a hefty price, she was happy to pay. She stumbled across one from her mother that was a month old. She chastised herself and made a silent promise to check the computer more often. Her mother worried about her a lot back in Japan. Moving overseas was very hard for Tomoyo, but she needed to go her own way, away from her mothers influence to know for sure that it was her designs, and not her name that sold her clothes. She missed her home country, which she always made plans to visit, but things always came up. The country that held such bittersweet memories…..as she continued to read, something odd caught her eye. Why was her mother asking her why she had not shown up for the funeral? What funeral? She struggled to keep her composure.

"Amelie! Can you come in here please?" The petite blonde stumbled into the office, coffee cup in hand at record time. Tomoyo made a mental note that this one could be a keeper.

"I'm sorry Ms. Daidouji. I hadn't realized it had been 20 minutes." She placed the coffee on the desk and turned to leave. Tomoyo raised her hand and spoke.

"No, no it's not about the coffee. Did I receive anything out of the ordinary from Japan?" The girl stood there in apparent thought. " I do recall your last assistant before leaving saying that a package of importance was supposed to arrive, but when I tried to give it to you, you said to put it in your closet. That it was probably just another sample piece." Tomoyo quickly got up and went to her closet, there she saw it. A rectangular pink box, written in Japanese was her name in a script that no matter how old she got, she would never forget.

"Did I do something wrong ma'am. I'm sorry, you told me it wasn't important." Tomoyo traced her finger delicately over the senders name, she closed her eyes, took a deep breath and sighed.

"No, Amelie. It's my fault. I need you to call Pet-I mean and tell him I won't be making it to lunch after all. Call and cancel all my appointments, and get me a ticket on the next plane leaving for Japan." The girl just stared at her boss and nodded. Without a word, she went to her duties leaving Tomoyo alone. She lifted the box gingerly and placed it on her desk, debating on whether or not to open it. She had a terrible feeling in the pit of her stomach that the box and the email were connected. In the spur of the moment, she grabbed her coat and the box and left to her house. To hell with waiting for Amelie, she would get the tickets her self.

On the way to the airport, her thoughts began to wander. Memories of the past happy and not took form and begged for notice. The addressee of the box appeared in almost all of them. She will not panic, she would be there for her best friend, even if they weren't that anymore. She hoped for the best as she boarded the plane, finally taking her home after a 10 year long absence.

Upon getting off the plane, she found her mother standing in the crowd with a few of her most trusted bodyguards. She ran to her daughter wrapping her arms and hugging her tightly to her. Her mother, who hardly ever showed emotions unless they were in the comforts of their home, began to cry. Tomoyo made a mental note to give Amelie a raise when she got back to the states.

The ride to her mother's home felt like an eternity. Her mother composed herself enough to get Tomoyo's luggage and get to the car before she broke down again. Tomoyo clearly didn't understand. She knew that someone important had died, it never crossed her mind to ask whom. She cradled the box in her arms, still unopened. The feeling in her stomach began to grow. "Mom, I don't understand. I got your email yesterday and got here as soon as I could. What happened?" Her mother dabbed her swollen eyes with a cloth and smoothed out her suit jacket. She began to fidget. This has to be bad, her mother didn't fidget. She was the poster child of poise, next to her. Sonomi tried to look her daughter in the eyes, but the pain she knew she would cause prevented her from telling her daughter the truth, even if it was for a mere few seconds. Tomoyo began to get impatient.

"Momma, what is it? Is it Li-san? Is it-it, Sakura?" Her mother didn't have to say anything. Tomoyo asked the driver to stop and proceeded to relive her nauseous stomach. She wiped her mouth with the sleeve of her blouse, she sat back and took tiny deep breaths. She needed to calm herself. She looked down at her trembling hands and squeezed them into tight fists. The first of many tears began to fall. She wiped them quickly away, fumbling with the package.

"H-how. And when." Sonomi took a shaky breath and told her the story. It was a rainy night, and Sakura and her husband were driving home from a party that they had attended. It was late and their tire blew. Li had lost control of the vehicle and they met a truck head on. Neither one had survived. Many emotions flooded through her at once. Anger, sadness, jealousy and above all guilt. In a tiny way, even though she knew her former best friend would be heartbroken, she hoped it would have just been Li. She quickly chastised herself for even thinking that way. She should and did wish for both their safety. Guilt…….she never got to apologize to either of them. Guilt…..she didn't stay in touch, she let her best friend fall away. Guilt……she never got to say goodbye. For the first time since she was a child, she let her mother comfort her as she let her tears continually fall.


End file.
